The Guardian of Gorham City
by RainsPhantom
Summary: Dark Erik b/w T &M AU- This is a DARK KNIGHT BATMAN /POTO crossover. What happens when the city is overrun by criminals? Who will cross the lines of good and evil to defeat them? The Guardian then must face the most dangerous criminal of all. Will he win?
1. Prologue: Heroes are Overrated

Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine! I also do not own any rights or gain monetary subsidies to __**Batman**__. That belongs to Bill Finger, Bob Kane, and DC Comics._

**Author's Note: Hello all! I bet you are wondering what this story is all about…Well, let's just say that I had a rather ingenious idea that many of you probably will love. Please read the Prologue and review. As always, THANKS! **

_**Prologue- Heroes Are Overrated**_

The city was dark and dank, that night a particularly wretched storm had settled in from the coast. Torrential amounts of rain battered the city's skyscrapers and flooded the streets as flashes of lightning lit up the smoggy night sky as it usually occurred in Gorham City.

The history of the city had always been plagued by the crime that still was rampant its very own streets that were created by mobsters in the late 1800s hoping to avoid detection from the police much like Las Vegas due to the location.

Near the coast, the city offered a quick getaway for the mob members while the one road assured that there was only one way into the city…and not many ways out. The landscape outside the city was surrounded by dark and dense forestry until the early 1900s rolled around bringing the fears of World War into full view as scientists began nuclear testing.

Further isolating the city was the incident in 1929 when a minor nuclear explosion occurred within the forestry surrounding Gorham City, resulting in a significant loss of lives and a devastatingly crippled environment around it. Never getting quite over that bad occasion, the City soon developed a rather nasty reputation for crime over the years, resulting in many superstitions that surfaced as people started to believe any person in the city was abominable for the city was truly cursed.

Yet, the city grew to substantial size despite such an odiously infamous stigma and was now a bustling city filled with people of all ages. As long as one stayed indoors at night, then one's safety was always ensured. However, if a person was foolish enough to step outside into Gorham's nightly life, he was bound to suffer for it.

Crime was always the pest that plagued the city since its origin, and it definitely did not fade over time as the mobsters and other criminals were attracted to the city's dark reputation. The police department gave little comfort to the citizens; for it was quite obvious the officers were overworked and tired from all of the crime that engorged the city.

Yet, Lieutenant Peter Sherman remained hopeful that his department would regain control of the city despite disparaging results in his efforts to capture the criminals. The issue was not capturing the criminal for that was actually the easy part; it was preventing other nefarious individuals from taking their places.

Lt. Peter Sherman was a good man with a wonderful wife and little girl around ten years. He had always been career focused in life. His life centered on his work until he met his wife at the local diner, where he had spent plenty of sleepless nights going over reports. They married shortly after he was promoted (on his 38th birthday mind you) from Deputy to Lieutenant in a milestone for the department.

They learned they were expecting a child the next month, and now he worked less often but more feverishly to ensure the city would be better for his little girl. Unfortunately, his efforts were not paying off.

The city was filled with wealth (old money from the time the mafia organizations had built their empire…something the city was not too proud of) and that also fueled much of the criminal activities at the local banks.

However, the city also had its share of newcomers that brought in substantial sources of income too. Multimillionaire Charles and Madeline Desslar had entered the city nearly two decades ago with their infant son, Erik, in hopes of helping rid the city of such a filthy name.

Charles and his real estate empire suffered greatly at first, but with his ingenious ideas and hard work, his empire grew considerably within Gorham's boundaries. Soon the city appeared to have brightened, but he, too made the mistake as so many had done before.

Madeline and he were returning home from the Opera with their five year old son, Erik, at night when a mask wearing man forced the family to go into a dark and grimy alleyway where the taller masked man demanded money, shoving a gun at the wife's frightened face.

Charles, ever calm, reached into his pocket to pull out his cash when he made the error of lunging at the weapon. As the two fought for control of the gun, the family did not see or notice the second masked gunman run from the shadows he had hidden in. Immediately, he shot the woman who died instantly, her body dumping to the ground as her blood-covered face turned up to her little boy who cried out from the sight of her cold but fright-filled eyes.

The husband's body froze when he saw his wife's dead form as the masked man yanked his gun free from the Charles's grasp. Aiming it at the man who was on his knees next to his wife and son, the masked gunman shot the millionaire in the back of the head.

Soon, the criminals realized the boy was present and terrified. They lifted their guns at the same time, but Erik knew he what he had to do. Run. Run and never look back as he had been taught. Immediately, the youth took off on foot and while the gunmen shot, they could not catch the swiftly running boy.

When Erik slammed the door shut of his parents' mansion, he collapsed on the marble floor and wailed for an hour. He did not even move or say anything when the family butler and friend, Aldred Lancaster, found the boy on the floor unmoving.

Rushing to the youth's side and gathering the trauma-stricken boy, the butler vowed to raise him as Charles and Madeline would have wished.

The boy did not speak for the next year, silently suffering in his grief, but the butler was steadfast and never failed Erik. When the parents had died, the fortune, family business, and trust went to Aldred until the boy came of age to inherit the wealth.

Soon Aldred realized that Erik was an extraordinarily gifted child who excelled at everything whether from business, music, art, or English. His IQ proved to be higher than even Einstein's, so when the boy turned sixteen, Aldred made the decision to let the adolescent take over his father's business.

The butler was amazed to see that within a year, Erik surpassed his father by expanding the real estate business to other fortifying ventures. He increased the millions invested in Wall-Street by millions more, bought out several low end companies and made them empires, and dealt in trading overseas. All in all, he ensured the Desslar name was insurable by billions at the age of seventeen.

One area the growing adolescent always avoided was the romantic venture. He never dated although he'd attend events with beautiful women and models. The butler never understood why the boy was so hesitant to date; he was very handsome with dark hair and golden eyes. He had been a slim youth at one time but had grown into a six foot three lithe muscular body through exercise and time.

Erik briefly answered one time, "I just have no interest, Aldred. I am far too busy building my father's company. Plus, I have not met a girl who has caught my attention in that way."

While he excelled in life, the butler knew all too well that his adopted son was deeply haunted and tormented by the deaths of his parents. Yet, the young man seemed to have found a way to cope with that nightmare until one night on the eve of his twentieth third birthday.

At 6:00 in the evening on a cold November night, Erik was heading towards a meeting with the Japanese executives of a restaurant Desslar wished to purchase. While going over the financial briefings the execs had faxed him two days ago, something caught his eye as the limo stopped at a red light.

A woman was leaving her apartment and was rifling through her purse trying to retrieve her cell phone when a man in a dark hooded sweatshirt and jeans ran up to her. Pointing a gun at her face, he demanded money.

Suddenly, Erik's mind shut down as he dashed out of the limo leaving a befuddled Aldred behind. Racing towards the woman's aid across the street, he yelled for her to run but could not be heard over the honking of angry drivers and could not be seen amid the smog and smoke flowing in the dank street.

Using his shoulder, he rammed his whole body into the hooded man which gave the escape the woman needed. She ran to her car and sped away dialing the police as she drove off. The butler had to drive the limo around due to the furious drivers behind him, praying his boss was alive and well.

When Erik successfully gained control over the criminal, he kicked the gun toward the gutter of the street. Yet the hooded man laughed at the once immaculately dressed man in his suit, "You idiot. You have _no_ idea what you are getting yourself into…"

Yanking the man's collar, Erik defiantly stared into the man's face inches from his and spat, "I am afraid _you_ have no idea what _you_ have gotten yourself into…" Then, the billionaire punched the man in the face, breaking his nose.

As blood poured out of the man's nose, Erik left his lifeless body on the sidewalk and turned to head back to the limo when he heard the approaching of several footsteps behind him. Rotating on his heel, he saw several other hooded men emerge from the shadows of the gloomy alley with a variety of weapons in their hands.

Sighing, Erik knew he would miss his meeting, but the rage built up inside from his parents' murder came rushing back. He may have been helpless to protect them then, but he could protect himself now.

With his shoulders squared and head held high, he showed no fear but a strong determination to show that criminals don't always win. Soon the four men with weapons charged the man in evening wear, and Desslar hurled himself into one of the assailants and knocked the bat out of his hand.

Picking up the bat, Erik charged another man who had a crowbar and swung at him mightily, but the man deftly dodged that attack. The other two men cornered Desslar into the alley further as he fought the onslaught of assaults from the man with the crowbar. With the bat, he was able to ward off most of the blows, but one caught him in the shoulder. Dropping the bat, he almost fell to his knees, but the image of his mother's dead eyes revived the rage in his body. With all of his strength, he punched the man in the face then kicked the crowbar out of his grasp.

With a loud clamor, the crowbar fell as the second goon was knocked unconscious. The two attackers behind Erik rushed forward as the billionaire turned around. One held a flamethrower while the other had a knife.

Quickly sidestepping them, he made passed them as they stopped to turn around. The limo screeched to a halt as Aldred got out, yelling for Erik to come into the car. Nodding, Desslar began to run forward as the wailing police sirens got louder as the police approached the scene of the crime.

Two yards from the limo, Dressler ran until he immediately fell to the ground from the knife imbedded in his calf. Pulling the two inch dagger from his flesh, Erik did not notice the men sprinting to his fallen form until Lancaster screamed it out.

"Erik, watch out!"

Yet, it was too late, the goon pressed the trigger and the flames shot out. The billionaire was then drenched in flames, literally screaming in agony from the searing heat that engulfed his upper body. The blood that had pooled at his leg now dried to the ground from the souring temperatures.

Aldred then took out the shotgun and fire extinguisher and ran to his adopted son in horror and fear. Shooting the shotgun three times at the men, the attackers were able to flee the scene right as the cops and ambulance showed up.

Spraying his boss with the extinguisher, Aldred was able to put out the fire but feared he was too late. Although it had been just seconds Desslar suffered from catching on fire, the butler feared that he was dead.

Once the smoke cleared, Lancaster surveyed the damage done to the one in his care and felt immense guilt wash over him at the sight of his charge face down on the grimy concrete, bleeding and in great pain. His hand moved. He was alive!

The medics rushed the billionaire to the Gorham General Hospital where they were able to stabilize his wounds. He had been burned at least seventy five percent of his body and the knife wound was stitched. Yet, months of therapy and skin grafts were in order, and Lancaster feared how this would affect Erik.

Although the fire had severely distorted his features, the once handsome man was now deformed and heavily scarred. His gold eyes retained their vision and hearing had not suffered loss, something the doctors relayed as nothing short of a miracle. The skin was pale and taut over the protruding cheekbones and forehead from the skin literally melting off in the fire. His nose had been severely altered from the heat and now was flat with two slits.

The blue and red veins were presently seen in the translucent skin while some of the hair had been scorched. Yet, with time, it all grew back. Overall, his face had suffered the worst of the damage.

Aldred feared his master's sanity and health, but the man did not seem concerned over his appearance. He was fixated on the fact he had failed once again. He had been left vulnerable to the scourge of the city, and he was furious.

He would do something about it. Not only was he tired of seeing the city drown in the crime of the wicked acts of the reprehensible; he knew the city was as well. He could stop it; he knew he could. But how?

The answer eluded him until two years later after his twenty-fifth birthday. The billionaire totally transformed his habits from years prior. No longer was he the outgoing and vibrant man with the façade of beautiful women in his bed and confidence of ten lions. He was a recluse and a prisoner to his own inadequacy until his butler came back from a week's vacation in Venice. There had been a masked festival that the butler had attended, and he had brought back some souvenirs to his boss in hopes of lifting his spirits. What he did not know was that those souvenirs would forever alter the path of the billionaire named Erik Desslar.

"Erik, I have brought you some mementos from my trip to Venice. I only wished you had attended with me."

The men sat in the armed chairs with a cup of brandy as was their custom in the evenings. The butler was now more than accustomed to his scarred adopted son, and his devotion to him never wavered.

"Please, Aldred, spare me. I did not want the stares. It is difficult enough to endure meetings from the board as it is."

His dark and melodious voice was marred by hostility and resentment, something ever present in his demeanor. The man had become embittered and further chose to ostracize himself from Gorham's elite society by never attending the functions any longer. The city now deemed him the 'recluse of Gorham City.'

"I meant no harm, Sir. Here open this."

Sighing heavily, the agitated man reached for the over decorated box and uninterestedly opened it. Pulling out a black mask made of porcelain, he looked at his butler bemused by the gift and then pulled out a heavy, black cloak.

"Ah, I suppose these are for my Halloween costume. Am I to be the Phantom of the Opera, Aldred?"

His sarcastic comment earned a chuckle from the butler who shook his head in the negative. Setting the brandy down on the table next to Erik's, Aldred laughed out loud before answering the sardonic question.

"Not at all, sir. Unless you wish. Try the mask on! I wish to see it on you."

Smiling a rare smile, the burned man apprehensively glanced at his friend and mentor for a moment. Then he placed the black mask on and stood to put the cloak on. Once he was fully garbed, the billionaire turned towards his friend to get his opinion.

The older man nearly choked on his brandy as he whispered hoarsely, "Well, sir, I cannot even tell it is you! Look at yourself in the mirror!"

Shaking his head and feeling rather stupid, the billionaire glided to the full length mirror next to the bookcase and glanced in the mirror. Astounded, he leaned forward and touched the black surface of the mask and stretched out his arms in the cloak. He looked like a large and menacing shadow; he could not even see his face. No one would be able to recognize him!

The old butler's British accented voice echoed in the large study to his charge, "Well, sir, it looks like you are ready to go out and fight the many criminals in Gorham's street!"

Laughing heartily at this, the billionaire then immediately stopped. He then was struck with this crazy idea…this idea that would change him forever.

**Author's Note: Gorham City is a small town in New York, but the history and origin in here is totally made up. So don't be offended Gorhamites! I hope this was a good beginning to this story. I pray you all liked this idea premise. Christine and Raoul will be in it as well as the other characters. **


	2. Chapter 1 Life Lost Guardian Gained

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine! I also do not own any rights or gain monetary subsidies to __**Batman**__. That belongs to Bill Finger, Bob Kane, and DC Comics._

**Author's Note: Hello all! Here is the official first chapter. I have changed the title, hoping I would like this one better. There will be a Joker character, but it will follow (and hopefully give justice to) Heath Ledger's interpretation of the sadistic killer. After all, he inspired this fan fiction story. Also, there will be quotes from ****The Dark Knight ****movie out of respect for the great Ledger who died before his time. ****Thanks so much to **_**LonesomeGurlAngelofDeath**_** for the corrections!! **

"_**Sometimes, truth isn't good enough, sometimes people deserve more. Sometimes people deserve to have their faith rewarded."**_** Batman**

_**Chapter One-Life Lost; Guardian Gained**_

Twenty three year old Christine Daae, an assistant to the well known and well liked District Attorney, Philippe de Chagny, stepped out of her car and rushed to the court. She hated being late!

The woman had graduated a short time ago the top of her class from Gorham University, with honors and a dual degree in criminal justice and law. Recently receiving a promotion from the police department, she was able to acquire the assistant DA position three months prior, making her the youngest person to obtain that title.

Growing up in a home with two loving parents, Christine could have been anything she aspired to be, but it all changed when her father was killed by loan sharks from the Denali clan, a known mob business operating under the guise of a loan agency in the lower East side of Gorham. Since that moment and her mother's subsequent death, the young girl vowed to see justice was done for her father no matter how long it took. In secondary school, she was able to skip from sixth grade to ninth grade because of her vast intelligence. She was witty, charming, beautiful, and intelligent; those qualities all aided her in getting such a prestigious job.

She had been raised by her aunt, Shirley Lancaster, since that time until she struck out on her own, working at three jobs while attending Gorham University to obtain her master's degree. A woman of curly long blonde hair and large doe eyes of the bluest color, she was gorgeous with full lips and pale complexion but with very feminine features (high cheekbones, slender eyebrows, long brown lashes).

Yet she had no time for romance and had very few friendships; her devotion to receiving justice for her late father drove her to avoid such relationships like the plague. Only because of her Aunt's distant cousin, Aldred Lancaster, was she able to have one solid friendship that lasted over the course of nearly a decade. Erik Desslar was both her childhood companion and closest confidante within the city, helping her get through the most difficult stages of her life.

She had recently heard about the accident that nearly claimed his life in the papers and had immediately gone to see him. However when she entered his room, she instantly sensed something about his aura had changed. He was different. He was colder, more aloof, and at first, this did not alarm her as much as it did now.

Refusing to let her see him in such a miserable and painful state, he had Aldred convinced her to leave the hospital and she did not see him since that time. This rejection could not have come at a worse time, for she needed his comfort and support as she and her partner, Philippe de Chagny, began the trial for Leon Denali who had killed her father ten years ago. Leon was also the son of Reggie Denali, the head of the Denali clan.

Thus far her friend, Erik, had yet to step foot outside his mansion and instead took to a life of a recluse. She had not been able to get past the gates of the house, having tried and failed, with the apologies of Aldred who simply stated that Master Desslar just needed more time to heal both physically and mentally.

So she left her friend alone, her heart breaking for his pain and silent suffering, but she had other priorities to handle and it started with today's trial. Racing up the court's steps, she rushed to Room #9 on the first floor as the bailiffs held back the throng of photographers and news casters who permeated the halls like mice going after a piece of cheese.

She made it just in time! Passing the crowd of people in the bleachers, she spotted the familiar face of her friend, Erik Desslar. Standing up, he looked at her cautiously as she saw the severe burn scars that lacerated his face but she paid no heed. She was just glad to see him. Rushing to him, they embraced as she whispered in his ear, "I thought you would not come."

Ignoring the people staring at the well dressed billionaire the two friends smiled at each other, glad to see each other even under such distressing circumstances. Holding her close again, he whispered back, "I would not miss it for the world, Christine."

Nodding, she went to take her seat next to Philippe who was looking over the prosecution's case as the defense attorney waited for Leon Denali to be brought in for court. Erik Desslar took his seat and tried to hide his face from the curious but rude onlookers; he could not have been more grateful for the distraction of the judge entering the courtroom as one of the bailiffs brought Leon in handcuffs to his seat next to the defense attorney.

The trial had begun.

"Your Honor, I would like to call a witness to the stand for questioning. He has been sequestered in the back room as mandated by the court for he had been subpoenaed but got into an altercation with one of the bailiffs upon arriving."

Nodding, the judge allowed Philippe's request for the witness to take the stand. The courtroom waited in great anticipation as the court officer went to retrieve the volatile tempered man from the rear room.

Philippe de Chagny was a very brilliant man, succeeding in every venture he tried. He was a fight foot nine bachelor with black hair and brown eyes with a chiseled tan face any woman would swoon over. His family was of old wealth, but they had expanded their money to legitimate and modern day endeavors. He was the first born son to Fred and Trina de Chagny, and quickly took over the family affairs when his father died from a sudden bout of pneumonia thirteen years later.

His younger brother Raoul had been born not long after Fred had succumbed to illness and Philippe instantly became the surrogate father to him, guiding his younger sibling in the ways of the business and honesty.

Raoul de Chagny was of fairer complexion than his brother with sandy brown hair and blue-green eyes. Growing up in Gorham City and surviving was quite a feat few of the rich ever endured unscathed, but Philippe ensured his little brother never was left vulnerable to attack from the crime ridden streets.

He went to the same law school in Gorham as Christine but had long since graduated. At thirty-eight, he was the youngest DA in the county with the highest conviction rate in the state. He cleaned up the streets of the city as easily as the nuclear accident that had wiped out the forests so many years ago.

His sibling had gone off to the Navy in order to see the world and get away from Gorham, something Philippe could understand perfectly. Yet, Gorham was _his_ passion and the DA would go to his grave to ensure that the city gain the rightful respect it deserved. Too long had it succumbed to the stigma of being cursed and controlled by thugs! He intended to change that utterly and what better way to start that by slamming one of the lead drug dealers behind bars for murder!

The door opened and the scruffy but gangly man entered the courtroom as the spectators whispered about his appearance and what he was hiding. Remaining silent but observing, Desslar keenly watched Christine's reaction to being in the same room as the man who killed her father so many years ago. She would glance over at him but then focus ahead, obviously trying to remain professional. This brought a small smiled to his scarred face before he listened intently of the line of questioning from the man who just swore in and the DA.

"So, Mr. Ferdinand Gallagher, is it?"

The nearly toothless man spat out, "Yea, that's me. What's it to ya?"

Scratching his head in nonchalance, Philippe slowly paced from the witness stand to stand in front of the jurors, leaning against the railing as he asked, "You were the one that sold the gun to the defendant, right?"

"Objection, Your Honor, the prosecution is leading!"

The elderly judge nodded his head to the defendant and spoke to the district attorney in a monotone voice, "Objection sustained. Please rephrase the question, Counselor."

Smiling a brilliantly white grin, Philippe responded, "Most certainly, your Honor. All right, Mr. Gallagher, did Mr. Leon Denali enter your store the night of January 23rd?"

The gruffly bearded man leaned back in the chair, "He did."

"Why did he come into your store? What did he buy?"

There the toothless grin revealed itself as Philippe walked closer to the man as the courtroom filled with curious and anxiously listening onlookers held their breaths waiting to see what the homeless looking man said.

Christine casted backwards glances at Erik who stood erect and stoic-faced, but mustered an encouraging nod her direction. Turning back to face the district attorney who asked the same questions when the man did not answer abruptly.

Suddenly, the man lunged at the DA with a Corvo as the slow acting bailiffs rushed to stop the witness who was obviously trying to kill the district attorney. Screams were pervasive in the room as Christine looked on horrified while Erik was tense behind his hooded eyes at the sight of the man's bold attempt to take the life of another.

Yet Philippe grabbed the man's arm and smashed the back of the elbow at the Golgi tendon on the wooden framework of the stand, immediately breaking the man's arm. Howling the man dropped the weapon on the floor and clutched his aching arm, whimpering in immense pain.

Casually picking up the weapon, the DA merely looked at the man and said, "A Corvo, huh, Mr. Gallagher. You probably would have been better off with a Smith & Wesson Model 10."

The courtroom erupted in applause as Philippe offered a small smile and wave to the citizens of Gorham City before turning back and exclaiming to the court officers and judge, "Don't take the man away yet! While we wait for the medics, I wish to ask him more questions. I am not through with Mr. Gallagher yet."

_--The Desslar Residence--_

"How did the trial go, Sir?"

"The man got life in prison without the possibility of parole. Once de Chagny broke the man's elbow, things went downhill fast for the defense. The jury took less than an hour to deliberate and come back with a verdict."

"I take it that Ms. Christine is happy with the outcome?"

At the sight of his butler's smiling features, Erik inwardly laughed and rolled his eyes at his mentor, "Aldred, you are getting that familiar look in your eye!"

The British butler stopped with the tray of tea on the silver platter as Erik headed towards the living area and with brows furrowed, "What look is that, Sir?"

Popping his head out from the study, Erik responded before returning to the room, "The one that always gets you in trouble and makes me uncomfortable."

Nodding his head, the butler retorted nonchalantly, "Ah, that one, Sir. I shall try to refrain myself from having any facial expressions if they displease you so much."

His adopted son's voice echoed in the hallway Lancaster was in, "Very funny, Aldred. Did you get the information I requested earlier?"

"Yes, indeed, sir. The papers are on lying on your desk in the study."

"Found them. Thanks."

Shaking his head, the butler headed to the kitchen to make sure the chef had prepared the food for dinner. After all, Erik was going to have dinner with the young Christine Daae. He just had no clue Aldred set the dinner date up.

_--The Study--_

Erik set aside his humorous banter with his butler in order to look over the papers that his assistant had brought earlier that day. Spreading them out over his large oak desk, the billionaire leaned over them, scanning for anything that caught his eye. There! He found it.

Picking up the sheet of paper, he thoroughly read the article about the elusive _Pendekar_ Nadir Alomar Khan from the Indonesian province who was the master of _Pencak Silat_. Erik knew he needed to be trained to hone his skills in order to fight the criminals of Gorham City, and because of his parents' violent death—firearms would _never _be an option. He and his assistant, Madame Giry, both searched various martial arts and other combat fighting techniques in order to find one compatible to his needs, and subsequently found it.

While researching hybrid martial arts on the Internet, the young billionaire was skimming through a website when he saw the mention of _Pencak Silat_, the collective term for the hundreds of schools with various styles that dotted the thirteen thousand islands in Indonesia. Once he read about the type of skills and combative techniques that the various martial arts taught, he then searched more inclusively in the Indonesian land to locate a school that grouped these skills into one learning institution. After hours of searching the web pages, he finally located an assembly called **Ikatan Pencak Silat Indonesia **that seemed to offer more help.

Yet, Desslar desired only the best master or trainer so that he could learn all of the expertise and methods he would need to fight off the criminal waves that fluctuated in this city. Pendekar (name given to the top _Pencak Silat_ teachers) Nadir Alomar Khan was nearly impossible to locate given his identity was highly guarded by the government. Erik had learned from several of his FBI friends that this master of martial arts had been used in covert operations and was wanted in connection with several deaths from Malaysia and Papua during the Free Aceh Movement.

The Master had been living as a recluse in a temple on _Gunung Batukau_, the second largest mountain in Bali, Indonesia. The mountain was not a favorite among climbers due to the thick forestry that covers the landscape, perfect for someone to withdraw to avoid detection, which was something that Erik needed should he perfect his skill.

He _had_ to meet with this Pendekar immediately to begin work. He surmised it would take a year to perfect the martial arts and combat fighting techniques until he would be able to return to Gorham, ready to make the streets safe once again. While he would be away, Annette Giry, a scientist dying of cancer promised Erik that she would perfect his suit so that his identity would be concealed as well as develop gadgets to aid in battle should he need to protect himself.

Aldred promised Erik that he would take care of the estates and ensure his boss's wealth was safely intact during the long trip. Juan Fernandez, one of the top board members, assured Erik that he would take care of the corporation's accounts and stocks while the boss left for an extended 'vacation.'

The morning came that the billionaire was to take his flight to Indonesia and he had packed his belongings in the car beforehand. After saying his farewells to Aldred and Annette, Erik turned on his heel in the foyer and opened the front door to the beautiful face of Christine, whose fist still poised to knock.

"Christine? What are you doing here?"

Shock ran through her blue eyes before she quickly dropped her hand to her side and managed a white smile of embarrassment, "Oh, I wanted to stop by and…Are you going somewhere?"

Running a hand through his hair, the burned man's grotesquely features knitted together as he explained, "Ah, well, I am taking a vacation of sorts…"

"Oh? Where are you going?"

Closing his eyes, the burned man slightly turned to face Aldred, who only nodded in acknowledgement of his boss's silent plea. Stepping forward the old butler intervened and answered the young woman's question.

"Master Desslar is going to travel throughout Europe's wilderness to get away from Gorham City. He needs a break from the corporation and his other businesses."

Beautiful blue eyes, the color of the sea, turned towards her tense friend who stood with his eyes downcast. She reached out and embraced him. Returning the embrace, Erik was intoxicated by her sweet smell of lavender and vanilla. He was going to miss his few friends, but especially Christine.

When she pulled back, she asked, "How long do you plan on being gone?"

"A year maximum."

"A year?! Erik, what…Why so long?!"

His eyes darkened as Christine recognized the all too familiar gloom that occasionally engulfed him, that darkness from grieving for his parents' violent death. Hugging him again, she whispered in his ear, "If you need a year, then I will support you. Just promise you will come back. Gorham needs you. _I _need you."

Before he could reply, she kissed his marred cheek and walked down the massive marble steps to her blue sedan. With one wave, she drove down the driveway as Erik watched until he could no longer see those two red taillights that faded in the direction towards downtown Gorham City.

"Are you ready, Sir?"

Snapping out of his reverie, the billionaire nodded and followed his butler and companion to the limo that would take him to his private jet on the outskirts of the city. While Lancaster drove to Desslar's personal airport, the disfigured man sat, observing the passing scenery with disinterest because his thoughts were at the place where he watched his parents die. How helpless he had been, but this would change. _He_ would change.

Tears burned his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. There is no way he would allow himself to let the grief out. No, he needed to hold on to it. He needed to remember what it felt like to have his mother's cold dead eyes settle on him. He needed to feel the coldness of that November night and how it paled in comparison to the frigidity to his heart as he ran away from his parents' corpses.

He needed that pain. He needed it to help him fight back. Sitting back in the leather seat, he closed his eyes and calmed down by thinking about the good memories he _did_ have with Aldred and Christine.

The limo pulled into the airport; close but far enough from the private jet, as the attendants came out to greet their boss. Opening the door, Aldred watched the young Desslar step out into the cold air. Immediately the attendants went about their business to ensure the plane's safety wile Lancaster and Erik said goodbye.

"This is the first time we have been apart more than a few days in nearly two decades, Master Erik."

Smiling genuinely, the now reclusive billionaire responded, "I know, Aldred, but it is for good reason. You must take care of the things I assigned you."

Nodding his balding head, the butler smiled. The two shared a handshake and a brief hug before Erik stepped on the jet that would ultimately take him to the man named Nadir. It would not be long now…

_-- __**Gunung Batukau**__ in Bali, Indonesia--_

Desslar's lungs burned as he tried to climb the mountain, and as physically active as he was, this still proved quite a feat. Yet, his resolve made him forge on. The trees were green and bugs hovered over his sweating forehead as the muggy day's humidity rose. However, he sensed relief because the smell of rain permeated through the forest. He had been to the Amazon rainforest on many occasions, but this tropical island seemed to surpass the jungles he had grown accustomed to.

After nearly forty-five more minutes of trudging through the forest's overgrowth, he caught a glimpse of a massive temple. Golden plates with holy verses from the _Vedas_, something Erik had been taught as a boy when he desired to learn about other cultures and religions, hung above the massive oak doors. Although his Hindu speaking skills were rusty and limited, he was able to decipher what the scripture said, "_God loves us not for what we are but what He can make of us._"

Hiking up the hundreds of steps that led to the front of the temple, he began to have second thoughts. Could he do this? Could he forfeit a normal life in order to bring justice to a crime-ridden city? Then his mind flashed mental snapshots of Christine's smiling face, Aldred's wizened one, Philippe as he bravely squared off to the kingpin's kid, and then his parent's happy faces before the murder. There was no other choice; he _had_ to do this for them. Otherwise he would never have a life. He would forever be haunted by tragedies.

Soon he faced the door and closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he pushed open the door. Chants echoed the room as monks worshipped by singing songs and chanting to their god. Out of respect, he removed his boots and straightened his sweaty and dirty white shirt. Suddenly, the men stopped and turned to face the stranger that had interrupted their worship.

Bowing out of respect to the elders, he straightened when one of the higher ranking priests spoke in broken English, "Who are you?"

Once more bowing, he replied in their native tongue, "My name is Erik Desslar. I am here to see _Pendekar_ Nadir Khan."

The lesser priests' eyes widened in shock at the man's request while the higher priest's face did not change expressions; he nodded and led Erik to the back of the temple. Stopping in a grand hallway, the priest turned to the burned man and spoke.

"He has been expecting you for quite some time, _orang terbakar_."

Erik bristled at the name the priest used to call him; he swallowed his pride and responded respectfully, "saya tidak mengerti?" ( Excuse me, I do not understand.)

The priest only smiled and pointed down the hall to a red door hidden amongst the shadows of the tall structures overhanging the ceiling. Nodding, Erik headed towards the door and knocked. An Indonesian accented voice called out, although muffled by the door, "Silahkan masuk." (Come in.).

When he opened the door, he found no one was in the small study filled with bookcases of volumes of books like encyclopedias, the _Vedas_, Hindu hymnals. There was an altar and a chair with a small desk in the corner of the room. Candlelight was the only light of the room but the hundreds of lit candles was more than enough illumination. As he observed the new surroundings, the billionaire failed to notice the shadow behind him before suddenly he was thrown to the ground.

A man held his arm against Erik's throat and stared directly in to the burned man's eyes with indifference and smug satisfaction. Before the Indonesian man stood up, he whispered in a deep but monotone voice, "Never turn your back to your enemy. Never give them the chance to hurt you."

Still attempting to recuperate from the attack, Desslar stood up as well and took a long look at his attacker. The man was dressed in Indian _Dhoti Kurta_ attire, with a red embroidered silk kurta and cotton white dhoti underneath, typical for the upperclass or highly esteemed in the nation of India.

He was brown, indicating his homeland was in Asia, probably India as displayed by his attire. A red dot was in the middle of his forehead which Erik surmised meant he was also a monk in the temple.

His sandals were hand-woven and stitched together from natural materials. He was also tall, at least 6 foot 2 inches. He was also high up in age; Erik surmised the age to be around in late fifties, early sixties due to his discolored skin and balding head. Although he was tall, he was rather lithe and less muscular in frame; but obviously the man was highly skilled in the martial art form of pencak silat.

"You speak English?"

The dark-skinned man smiled, "Yes. I was taught by the Indian government in order to do clandestine work. I assume you are here for my services as indicated by your men. Am I to be assured that this entire situation will be concealed?"

"You have my word that the U.S. will not be informed of your location as well as the other agencies searching for you."

The former agent from India moved to the other side of the room next to the altar and sat down, crossing his legs in typical monk fashion. Motioning with his hands, he invited Erik who came over and reciprocated the man's actions.

"I surmised that you were a man on a mission, Desslar. No other man, or agency, has so skillfully hunted me down and actually _found_ me as you have done. You must be quite desperate for assistance to come after such a dangerous man."

"I need your help. I want to be trained in all the combative fighting skills from a Master, and you by far, are the most supreme of _Pendekars_."

Staring at the billionaire, the _Pendekar_'s eyes seemed to bore into Erik's very soul, which utterly unnerved the normally reclusive man. Frowning, the esteemed monk sighed heavily before telling the man what was on his own mind, his voice carrying a regal and knowledgeable quality that only came with age and extreme understanding.

"Mister Desslar, it appears you carry a lot of rage in your heart. That anger comes off you in waves, which is not advisable for one seeking training in the art of _Pencak Silat._. In order to be trained, you will need to let that anger go. You need to be level-headed and passive, as well as patient and compassionate."

Desslar's voice darkened as he replied flatly and vaguely, "I wish to be trained. I need the anger. It is my motivation."

Not even blinking, Nadir replied instantly, "Yes and that same motivation will be your own destruction. Man cannot survive with hatred in his heart. Hate only kills the hater, Mister Desslar. It would be wise to listen to my words."

"You do not know my other motivations, though, so you cannot say that I will be killed by my anger."

Shaking his head, Nadir Khan sighed, "Mister Desslar, you have what many Westerners err in when thinking about dying. Men can no less die in spirit than they can physically die. And your spirit, Mister Desslar, is crying out."

"For revenge…"

"NO! It is crying out for _**salvation**_! It is crying out for _**justice**_! If you choose to go down the path of revenge, it shall deter you from the path your spirit so longs for: absolution. Will you deny this? Will you deny your spirit's last hope to survive?"

The billionaire was silent, processing the impromptu emotional outburst from the other man, before he answered tentatively, "I can do it. I can fight for salvation and justice."

Holding up a brown hand, the monk shook his head and firmly spoke, "No, Mister Desslar, God is the only one who offers such things. You must seek God. Do you know where He is? He is in _life!_ He is in the air we breathe! He is in the smiles and laughter of children! He is in the goodness of all humanity! He is especially, in the spirits of all mankind. You are about to partake in one of the most difficult quests in your life: the quest to protect."

Standing up, the dark-skinned man helped the burned rich man stand on his two feet. Placing both hands on the sides of his burned face, his brown eyes looked into Desslar's golden ones before chanting verses from the _Vedas_ and speaking in low whispers despite the discomfort it caused Erik.

"You will hide behind a mask. I can foresee this, but you will be a protector. I will train you and give you all of my knowledge in order for you to guard your people. You will save the spirits of the dying. You will give hope where there is no hope…You will give life where it has died, and through that, God will return. But this job will not be easy…Nay, this journey will be strenuous and I will ask much from you and will take much from you. Are you willing to learn and give a huge part of yourself to dedicate to this task?"

Resolve and determination flooded through Erik and the man looked squarely into the Master's brown eyes and nodded affirmatively, "I am, Master. I am ready to give away myself…my life…to protect the innocent."

Smiling softly, the monk tapped his face lightly before turning his back to the billionaire. When he turned around, he held a walking stick made of bamboo, commonly called _Tongkat,_ and motioned for Erik to follow him into the training grounds. The _Pendekar's_ last words before the training began signified a new life for the rich man, Erik Desslar, and would forever change him.

"When I am finished training you, Mister Desslar, you will no longer be Erik. You will be a guardian. A guardian of the innocent."

This statement immediately transformed Erik's mind as he silently thought to himself, '_I will be the Guardian of Gorham City._"

**Author's Note: I apologize for the long wait in an update. College started and that was hectic enough, but I had to do extensive research into how I wanted to map out this story, so hopefully the effort is appreciated. Thanks for all reviews and alerts! As always, read and review! Thanks! --RainsP.**


	3. Chapter 2 The Guardian's Story Begins

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine! I also do not own any rights or gain monetary subsidies to __**Batman**__. That belongs to Bill Finger, Bob Kane, and DC Comics._

**Author's Note: I am glad so many are enjoying this story. I do not anticipate the Joker coming into the story until later. I have it planned for him to enter the story in Chapter Five. Although I think it is important to build up a story before diving into the action, I know how anxious some must be. Other than that, enjoy this chapter! **

**School, work, and personal life are getting in the way of me updating as much as I would like, but I do not abandon stories….So, I hope you just have the patience to bear with me!**

**Also, I want to give a BIG hug and greeting to ShadowArcher!**

"_**People are dying, Alfred. What would you have me do?"**_

**Bruce Wayne**

"_**Endure, Master Wayne. Take it. They'll hate you for it, but that's the point of Batman, he can be the outcast. He can make the choice that no one else can make, the right choice."**_** Alfred Pennyworth**

_**Chapter Two-The Guardian's Story Begins**_

His lungs burned and his whole body felt as if it were on fire while he tried to ward off the attacks from Pendekar Khan. Yet, his resolve had only strengthened since he first came to Nadir eight months ago seeking the skill in order to combat the evil that plagued Gorham City. The training had been more strenuous on his mind and soul than physically, which was still saying much considering his body was still sore from the lessons that occurred six months prior.

Nadir Khan came at him with the _Tongkat_ but Erik was quicker in his movements and sidestepped the man while snatching the walking stick out of his opponent's hands. With the weapon in his own hands, Desslar slammed it into the back of his Master who obviously fell to the ground. Standing over him, the masked man looked down at the fallen man as a large grin spread across Nadir's features.

Once Pendekar Khan acknowledged the lesson was over, Erik helped the older man up on his feet and the two traveled to the sitting area in the back of the Temple in order to have simple discussions, as was their custom after each combating session.

The two men casually passed the other monks who kneeled in prayer in the more sacred areas before they reached Nadir's office at the end of one of the grand hallways. Upon entering the room, Erik took a seat on one of the ornate pillows lying on the floor. He smoothed out the wrinkles in his robe before graciously accepting the cup of tea handed to him by his master.

After the older man took a seat, Erik was apprehensive. He had no idea of what to expect from his master, Nadir. Sitting in silent contemplation while sipping hot tea, neither man spoke of what was specifically on his mind.

A pang of homesickness washed over the deformed man, something the Pendekar noticed immediately. Setting his tea down, the monk rose to his feet and motioned for his protégé to do the same.

"What is plaguing you so, anak saya (my son)?"

"I am homesick…"

Nodding his balding head, the elder man spoke in a softer, more compassionate tone, "You are almost ready to return to your city. Before you go, I need to converse with you on some more topics that are pertinent."

The two men then began to amble down the path towards the more sacred areas of the temple, areas restricted only for the higher priests or monks. The billionaire paused, unsure whether he should violate the codes. Yet, the pendekar nudged him forward as he began to speak.

"You blame yourself for your parents' death, do you not?"

Before Desslar could respond, Nadir interrupted, "Of course you do. That was a defining moment in your life. Then, I cannot help but wonder why you wish to save the same city that took your parents away, especially in a violent fashion. Why, Desslar, do you want to defend this Gorham city?"

The familiar fire that thirsted for revenge and had been quelled for eight months began to come out, the flames licking at the corners of his very soul. Erik closed his eyes in an effort to calm his spirit down, but his master quickly stopped him. Throwing the rich man to the rugged floor, he incapacitated Erik by placing him in a chokehold.

Whispering harshly in his ear, Nadir reprimanded his young ward, "No, you must not do that! If you quell the beast, it only grows stronger. You must learn to control it, and _use_ it to your advantage. Letting that beast have control is the fastest way for you to die."

Loosening his grip only slightly, Nadir continued to speak in a softer tone in an effort to reach his young ward.

"Anak saya, you must stop blaming yourself for your parents' death. It was not your fault. Let it out…Speak the words you have kept hidden for over a decade. Tell me how you felt the moment you saw your safety net destroyed; the moment you no longer had control; the moment you felt hopelessness and helplessness…"

The younger man's body violently shook as the powerful waves of emotions, deeply buried in the past memories and deepest parts of his soul finally were resurrected in one brief moment in time. With an incredible amount of energy, Erik threw his master off him and stood up. The monks who had been praying stopped as the burned man powerfully bellowed in the temple.

"It was I! _I_ killed my parents! In my ignorance, _I_ let those men kill the best part of me…my life! Yet, _I _lived in fear. _I_ let that fear consume me; I turned away from making amends for their death. For years, they laid in their caskets without justice. I never gave them the peace they rightfully were due; they died in vain."

Erik paused, taking a deep breath before beginning to speak softly at first, "Yet now…_I _can give them justice by making sure justice is done every night in Gorham City. I am sacrificing my life to ensure the innocent have theirs. No more fathers should have to die going home. Mothers should not have to live in fear for the safety of their children…_I have to be the guardian of the innocent…for the people I have lost!_"

With his confession out, the energy suddenly left Erik and he dropped to his knees next to his trainer. The Indonesian took the burned man's face in his hands and vehemently responded to his confession.

"Those confessions you just uttered are what you need to remember every time you encounter your enemies. Your enemies will try to get you to commit actions in order for you to fail…to become like one of them. Yet, you must remember _whom_ you are fighting for and why. Think of the people you love…think of your loss. However, do not let your grief and rage consume you. Let it be the fuel, the fire, which drives you in the darkest of times. When you have lost your will to fight, let your sense of justice and that fire become the means for you to keep moving on."

The deformed man let those words sink in, unaware that the entire temple's occupants now stared at the two in the middle of the sacred hall. Helping his apprentice to his feet, the two men ambled towards the courtyard that was located in the rear of the temple, ignoring the curious stares of the monks. Desslar wondered what then awaited him there in the courtyard.

As the two stepped outside, lightning flashed across the sky and some raindrops fell to the ground. The smell of rain and the electricity felt in the air signified the oncoming storm that threatened the already night sky.

With question the burned man stepped forward and faced his master, he then asked, "What are we doing—?"

From behind him, the burned man suddenly felt the air pressure change and immediately ducked the attack from the stranger behind him. While ducking, Erik swung his leg to knock his opponent's feet out from under him. As the man fell, the burned man then heard footsteps to his left approaching his fallen form at a rapid rate. From his right, he saw a flash of red, signifying another attacker.

Rolling over, he grabbed a rock and threw it at the head of the running man, which deterred him for a moment. As that man fell from the rock thrown at him, Desslar stood and took notice that Nadir had vanished, leaving him alone to ward off these assailants. In that time span, the attacker in red charged forward and knocked Erik back down on his back.

The red-dressed man then raised his sword in the air and swung down, but the sword did not slice Erik's flesh. Nadir had intercepted the enemy's sword, and with his own sword, and made one maneuver that caused the man to drop it. Picking up the enemy's discarded weapon, Nadir held the two swords and protectively stepped in front of his young ward who managed to regain his composure.

The sword's owner got to his feet as the other two assailants regrouped with him. They were dressed in elegant robes, known for the higher officials in the martial arts. With the distinctive scarves worn over their faces, their identities were concealed. Yet, Nadir seemed to know these men without taking off the scarves, leaving Erik thoroughly confused.

There was a tense standoff, and adding to it was the downpour of pounding rain that had fallen from the sky. The rain pounded down on the ground, the roar muffling out any other sound as flashes of lightning became the only illumination in the courtyard. In what seemed like slow motion, Nadir attacked.

He immediately used the sword and killed the man in the red robe before swinging the sword in his right hand to face the second attacker who had taken out his daggers. As the two combated, Erik lunged for the third man.

The man swung feebly at the burned man, but Erik only grabbed his arm at the olecranon process, at the place where the ulna and humerus of the forearm and arm meet. With the man's arm in his hand, the rich man slammed his opponent's limb on the stone bench, immediately dislocating the man's elbow.

Despite the man's obvious pain, he spoke in Indonesian, "Anda akan mati. (You will die)" Forgetting his training shortly, Erik succumbed to his rage, withdrew his kris, and pressed it to the man's clavicle. Yet he paused, unable to commit the action. Before he could succeed in killing the man by stabbing his kris into his opponent's clavicle region, severing the subclavian artery that would have killed the man, Nadir yanked his protégé off the assailant.

In one fluid motion, Erik watched as his master slice the attacker's throat. Within seconds, the man had bled out. Pools of blood now washed away as the rainwater swept it down the mountain's many paths. Laying the bodies down on the stone, the two men took off the scarves and looked at their now revealed faces. All three were young, no more than sixteen, and had carried simple weapons. They were well trained, but were still too novice and ill equipped to handle full on battle.

Sweat and tears stung the burned man's eyes as he realized what he could have done. Nadir pulled him inside the temple. The monks were asleep and none had heard the commotion, for the attack was a silent one made even more muffled by the horrendous rainstorm that still surged on. Once they were inside the temple, Nadir rushed his ward into his room where they spoke urgently.

"Why did you stop me, Pendekar?"

The older man closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "I stopped you because that is the one code you must never break. Killing a man is a sin…an atrocity you never would want to live with; trust me, for I have killed hundreds…Each man I killed, I have remembered his face right before he died. It haunts you as it will haunt me until my dying day."

Nadir could see his words were not registering with his young pupil and decided to take a different approach. Standing shakily on his aging knees, the pendekar placed a withered hand upon the burned man's shoulder and urgently spoke.

"Desslar, you must heed my words. If you purposely kill a man out of your hatred and rage, whether the man deserved it or not, you become just like the man you hate most. Taking a criminal's life will make you no better than that man; in fact, you become what you take away. If you take away a life, you will become a murderer, a criminal…Remember God is life, Desslar, and He gives justice and peace. If you take away life, you take away the very justice you are trying to preserve."

Erik's eyes lit up, as he finally understood what Nadir had been trying to tell him. "I understand now."

Pausing for a second, the younger man asked, "Do you know who those boys were?"

His master's eyes darkened as he nodded curtly. Turning his back to the billionaire, he replied, "Those were the sons of three men I had killed in Malaysia. Those men happened to be ones in power and the Malaysian government wanted them gone for they knew too much…Those boys were like you, Erik, young and thirsting for revenge for a wrongdoing inflicted upon them. They believed by taking a life; it rights the wrong. Yet I tell you it does _not_. Therefore, you see, they chose the wrong path…and by me taking their lives; I have _also_ done wrong. I must now leave the country, for my many enemies have found out my location. I also must denounce my priesthood and myself, for I have committed the most egregious sin against the high God. Yet, this all is of good timing for you, my boy, for you are more than prepared to return to Gorham and guard its citizens."

Erik paused and his burned features contorted, unsure of Nadir's claims. "Are you so sure I am ready?"

"You paused right before you could kill your enemy. That pause alone means you are ready. When you first came, your rage was in control of all that you did and said. Had you still been like this, you would have killed without pause. Now, you have mastered control over your rage. Instead, _you_ are able to _use_ your rage as the motivation for justice. With your anger under control, you are then able to make the right choice: not taking a life but saving lives."

The older monk paused and sighed heavily, taking a seat next to Erik and softly spoke, "I am sincerely sorry I am unable to train you more…"

The billionaire interrupted firmly stating, "No. You have helped me beyond any measure. How can I ever repay you for your work?"

"I need your help evacuating Indonesia…"

"I will arrange everything for you, but where do you plan to go? What will you do with your life?"

"I have lost my right to dedicate my life to God as I had wished, but I will go further into the wilderness in India. I wish to live in the _Arunachal Pradesh_, the forests where my lineage first began. Perhaps when I have made amends for my sins will I return to my first religion and live in the **Draksharama ****Temple **as my father did."

The billionaire nodded, "If that is your wish, I will ensure it is done."

_----Gorham City----_

Aldred had seen the worst times of Gorham City, but none compared to the dire state it was now experiencing. The mob had literally taken control of the streets; the mafia had murdered several hundreds of innocent people to send the message to police of who was actually in charge. Drugs and drug sales penetrated the once clean areas, subjecting neighborhoods to shut down from the violence that broke out in spurts.

The city itself was plagued by the crime, which engulfed every aspect of normal life whether from political figures jailed on corruption charges to the homeless men as deliverers for cartels of drugs. Philippe, the DA, struggled with the crime and was quickly discouraged by his inability to help the city he so loved. In the end, he ended up leaving Gorham City behind and moved to Europe where his beloved younger brother had settled, so that the he could clear his mind before he decided whether to return to Gorham City.

Christine still traveled to school, teaching a criminal justice class for the fall semester course. Even though her class kept her extremely busy, she missed her best friend dearly. Erik had yet to respond to her letters. He still had not made any contact with any of his friends, which were few. One particular boring day, she was granted the shock of her life.

Walking to school, she passed by a newspaper stand and saw the headline for the _Gorham Globe_: _Billionaire Desslar Returns After Extended Vacation_. Christine then paid for the newspaper and went to Gorham University to give out her finals to her students. Once she had finished grading her class's final exams, she quickly skimmed over the article over her latte at the local bistro across town.

Alexander James Wayne, the known investigative reporter for the Gorham Globe, the main newspaper of the city, had written the article. She skimmed over the fluff of the article and read the main aspects.

_Erik Desslar, billionaire of Gorham City, has recently returned from an extended eight-month vacation to the Amazon Rainforest and backpacking throughout Europe's wilderness. When asked what he intends to do now that he has returned, the normally reclusive rich man answered, "I want to expand my company to a global scale."_

_He added that he would meet with China in order to develop a trade agreement wherein Desslar stands to gain a million in commission and begin his global expansion. As far as his personal life, the elusive billionaire smiled and coyly responded, "When there is something to reveal, you will be the first to know, Mr. Wayne."_

"I take it you read the article about me, Christine. Yet, I haven't seen your pretty face in a while."

Startled, Christine dropped her latte that spilled on the table and floor. Clumsily she looked up and saw Erik, shortly forgetting her coffee accident. He was immaculately dressed in a satin black evening suit and long black coat. His burned face slightly improved as he smiled down at her with his shining white teeth.

Christine stared into his captivating gold eyes, forgetting about her spilt latte and the newspaper that she had strewn carelessly on the store's tiled floor. Smiling even more broadly, her friend stooped down and collected the newspaper while she shook herself out of her reverie and cleaned up the liquid mess.

When he stood up, the young assistant DA grabbed him in a loving embrace and kissed his marred cheek. Whispering in his ear how much she had missed him, her cheeks reddened as she realized what she had let slip from her lips.

Ever the gentle man, Erik pulled her chair out for her and took a seat across from her. Once seated, his deep but genteel voice asked, "How have you been, Christine?"

Slightly hurt, she answered, "I have been doing fine I suppose. I wrote you every week. Did you not get my letters?"

Smiling subtly, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out several enveloped letters held together by a rubber band. When Christine began to smile brightly, he laughed at her shocked facial expression.

"Yes, I received every single letter from you, my dear. I tried to write back, but there was no post office nearby to mail my responses. I apologize; I know I must have seemed insincere and callous. I thought about you every day. You are after all, my only friend. You mean very much to me, Christine. I do not want you to think that you mean nothing to me."

"Thank you, Erik. You mean so much to me, too. I do not think I would have survived that trial of my father's murderer if you had not been there. Are you planning on staying here in Gorham for a while, or should I anticipate you leaving for the Siberian expedition in Russia?"

The two shared a chuckle before the billionaire responded softly, "No, my dear, I will be staying in Gorham indefinitely. I find that I greatly missed the city that I grew up. Plus, I missed my friends…"

"I am sure Aldred has deeply missed you."

"As I have greatly missed his sardonic nature…It is astounding to me that he has survived eight months without his usual sarcastic banter of me and my…bad habits. Oh, look at the time. I have a meeting with the Chinese head of Xiao Enterprises of Beijing in less than ten minutes. I must be going. However, I would love it if you would come to my house for dinner."

Smiling a bright and beautiful smile, Christine nodded her curly blonde head at his request. She watched him leave the bistro towards his awaiting limo. How she wished to tell him how she _really_ felt about him. She wanted so much to tell him that she was in love with him, and had been in love with him for years. Yet, she was afraid to confess her secret to him. She feared she would be rejected by him as well as lose his friendship forever if he did not reciprocate her feelings.

_--Desslar's Mansion-__-_

"Sir, I want you to know how wonderful it is to have you back in this mansion of yours. It was quite unnerving not to have you and your usual gloomy disposition to help lower the spirits of the staff here."

Laughing, Erik embraced Aldred as he entered his home for the first time in eight months. Strolling around the lobby, library, office, and kitchen, he observed his surroundings with approval.

"You have done well to keep the place up, Aldred. I must give your salary a raise."

"Ah, thank you, Master Erik. I just tried to keep it as gloomy as you left it. How was your trip? You seem to have more confidence, which may or may not be a good thing in your case."

Turning to face his butler and godfather, Erik smiled at the tuxedo-clad employee before he responded, "I do have more confidence in my ability to protect the innocent of this city, Aldred. I expect you to come with me to meet Madame Giry tomorrow evening. She has completed my suit and I will be interviewing prospective people to have the CEO position at Desslar Enterprise filled."

"Why ever would you need me to come with you, Master Erik?"

Walking past him and heading towards his room, Erik called over his shoulder a response to Aldred's question, "Why! What ever would I do without your sarcastic and down-to-earth comments?"

Aldred chuckled softly and shook his head before heading back to work. He could only speculate what Erik would do tomorrow when he saw his suit for the first time. The older man also set down the files of each prospective CEO candidate on his adopted son's desk in his office before Aldred headed to his room in order to get some sleep. His old bones could only take so much physical labor these days.

When Erik reached his room, he leaned his back against the door and sighed heavily. He was tired and ready to go to sleep. Yet, eight months of mail stared at him on his bed. Changing into his pajamas, he washed his grotesque face before settling himself on the bed to go through the mail.

One particular letter caught his eye, and he opened the unaddressed yellow envelope and pulled out the letter with messy black handwriting. There was a _Vedas_ scripture on top that in English read, "When anger rises, think of the consequences…" In addition, an Indian proverb that was under the Hindu one read, "Blaming your faults on your nature does not change the nature of your faults."

_Erik:_

_I must thank you profusely for your help. With your help, I was able to arrive at my destination we both agreed upon in a matter of hours. Before you set out to do what you must do, remember our training and my words of advice. You will lose much, but you have gained more these past few months. Always keep my words in your heart, and I will find you if you need me._

_Remember my son: Keep your word always. Obey God. Know your limits._

_Pendekar N._

Once he finished reading the letter, Erik held the end of the letter to the candle's flame where it soon burned up, but the words were very much in his head and heart.

_--Meanwhile in a basement on the other side of Gorham City_…--

Scientist Melvin Wyatt poured over his blueprints for the new nerve gas he hoped would impress his idol, and boss, Erik Desslar. How he dreamed of approval from his idol! With this new innovative and useful gas, that law enforcement could use to deter criminals and subdue rioters.

Although, Melvin had found that there was negative side effects to using this chemically based gas. That was why he was working so late into the night in order to find a way to negate the bad side effects before Erik Desslar, whom he worshipped, came in the next day to inspect the laboratory division of Desslar Enterprise.

How he wished for Desslar's approval! Tomorrow morning, he anticipated he finally would get his wish and the recognition for his work he so craved!

_---Gorham Globe Building---_

Alexander James Wayne worked feverishly on his mediocre article in a vain effort to make it more interesting. Alex was nearly six feet and had dark black hair with gorgeous brown eyes that could melt a woman's heart. His skin was tan and his body was not small or big. He was muscular but not to the point that he would be considered too athletic. Women considered the reporter 'sexy.' He had dated on and off a myriad of women, but none had captured his heart…yet…

Lately, his article submissions had been bland and without the passion, he shared for investigative journalism. He could not place his finger on why his writing was suffering so much, but he felt he needed something…a big story…to help get his enthusiasm back up.

Gorham City certainly had its share of gold mine stories that the journalists of the paper could use in the newspaper, but lately, Alex had found his writing becoming increasingly bland. He was losing his zeal for investigative reporting, something he did _not_ want to happen. He needed something new to write about, something that would capture the public's eye as well as ignite the flame to his excitement for his calling.

Little did he know, he was about to embark on a story that would soon become his obsession. He would soon find himself entangled in the story of the unknown identity of the Guardian as well as the many criminals that would soon cross his path.

--_Gorham Police Station--_

The police officers of the city were swamped with unsolved cases and a frightened public who took out its fears on the police force. The truth was that the many criminals that now patrolled and owned the streets no longer feared the police. The police chief was at high risk of losing his job because all the bad press and his rapidly approaching election for a second term annoyed Mayor Whittle.

The mayor had pushed more of the pressure on the inept police force, which had been unable to handle the increase in crime. He did not want this to hurt his chance of being re-elected in the next few months.

Lieutenant Sherman was a good man and police officer with keen senses and an inborn sense of duty and justice for his fellow man. He had been able to solve most of his cases, but he was growing more concerned for the increasing number of unsolved cases and criminals walking free. He was also busy trying to take care of his wonderful wife and ten-year-old daughter while trying to help with the new recruits.

One recruit had shown particular promise for becoming a good police detective. Her name was Elizabeth Ruth Hart. She had the framework for honest and superior police instincts as well as first-rate investigative skills.

She had stayed late after class in order to help Lt. Sherman reorganize his filing cabinet and look at his growing pile of unsolved cases. She was an attractive woman of twenty-two with auburn hair with subtle blond highlights. She had gorgeous emerald green eyes and a round face. Not overly skinny, she was not fat either.

Once ten o'clock in the evening rolled around, she assured Peter Sherman she would take care of the rest of the filing so that he could go home and get some sleep. Once he left, Liz finished filing the cases before she too headed to her apartment.

Undressing out of her uniform, she put on some lounge clothes and poured over her notes from class earlier that day. She wanted to be prepared for the test tomorrow. It had always been her dream to work in law enforcement, and she was proud to be considered a Gorham City police officer.

Although, she did not know, she would soon face one of her greatest challenges yet. The young police officer would soon find herself face to face with the Guardian of Gorham City, and her life would never be the same again.

**A/N: I am again very sorry it took so long to get this update out. I hope to be more diligent with updates in the future. However, that may not be the case. I do hope you all continue to stick with me and enjoy this story. I am enjoying writing this story myself. Thanks for reading, and please review! Next chapter should have much more action as Erik becomes the Guardian!**


	4. Chapter 3 The Guardian’s Guilt

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine! I also do not own any rights or gain monetary subsidies to __**Batman**__. That belongs to Bill Finger, Bob Kane, and DC Comics._

**Author's Note: I know it has been forever since anyone has heard or seen from me! I apologize. Once again, life has found me and kept me busy for the past few months. Anyhow, thanks so much for reading, reviewing, and I hope that you all continue to do so. **

**Enjoy and as always, REVIEW!**

"_**What are you seeking?"**_

**Henri Ducard**

"_**I seek the means to fight injustice, to turn fear against those who prey on the fearful."**_

**Bruce Wayne**

**Chapter Three-The Guardian's Guilt**

"So, I take it, Sir, that dogs were involved?" Aldred questioned the deformed man as the butler entered the bedroom suite where the wounded man tended to some bite wounds. Erik's cool gold eyes flickered as he nodded curtly to the older man who regarded him with utter indifference.

"You missed another corporate meeting, sir. The heads of the corporations are not pleased with your…disappearing acts…"

Merely shrugging his shoulders, Erik calmly responded, "I am a busy man, Aldred. I have many other businesses and companies of which I must attend."

The older man set the tray of medical supplies on the coffee table in front of the chair where Erik sat and coyly remarked, "Your companies have been neglected since a masked vigilante has taken to the streets to rid Gorham of crime."

"Aldred, please, I do not need you to judge me for…"

"I have no intention of judging you, Mr. Desslar. I merely stated a fact. If you wish to continue as the masked avenger, then you can do so…but you cannot neglect your business. To do so could cast suspicion on your self."

Sighing heavily, Erik agreed as he put some antibiotic on his wound before placing gauze on it.

"I understand what you are saying, Aldred. Nevertheless, I cannot negate my role as Gorham's Guardian. There is no alternative to this…"

Once he was finished bandaging himself, he rose from his sitting position and motioned for his butler to follow him out of the immensely dark bedroom.

As the two men entered the center living area where an almost movie size flat screen television hung over the mantle, Erik turned it on to the local news. A young female reporter with blue eyes and blond hair stood outside one of the many local banks where a myriad of police lights and sirens were going off. Once the news station signaled her, she began her report.

"I am Becky Lowery with GCNS channel 6 news reporting live on the scene where four lone gunmen stormed the Gorham National Bank earlier in a botched attempt to rob the bank. Yet, early and unsubstantiated reports from witnesses have said a masked man in all black stopped the gunmen in a heroic act of bravery before vacating the scene. Here with me is the local police lieutenant, Peter Sherman. Lt. Sherman, can you tell me about the rumors of this masked man?"

Lt. Sherman stood next to the blond reporter in obvious discomfort. He had never been one to enjoy standing in front of crowds of people. The lieutenant was a short man with graying brown hair and a scrawny stature. Yet, many people respected him for his unwavering stance on getting rid of criminals.

His small brown-rimmed glasses flickered, as he responded in his low authoritative tone, "Listen to me, Gorham City, I urge you to not mimic this vigilante. The Gorham Police Department does not condone vigilante justice. This man may have stopped these lone gunmen today, but he put other people, the victims, in jeopardy by doing so."

Becky, undeterred, continued her questioning, "Did this masked man save the bank from robbery, Lieutenant?"

Shifting uncomfortably, Peter answered, "Yes, he did. But again, I urge the public…"

Yet, Becky interrupted, "This masked man also has saved nine people's lives, helped the police capture four high ranking mafia members, and virtually stopped the local drug trade in our low-end neighborhoods. Is all of this information also correct?"

The police officer reddened as embarrassment and anger overflowed his system, "Well, yes he has, but he is a menace to our society…"

"How can this masked man be a menace when he has done nothing but good for our city? I say if this masked man wishes to help rid the city of criminals, then he should keep doing so."

Before Peter could object, the reporter cut him off, "This is Becky Lowery from GCNS channel 6 news reporting from Gorham National Bank. Back to you, Rob."

Flicking the news off, Erik turned towards his oldest friend who shook his head before speaking, "Master Desslar, you seem to be making enemies with our men in blue…Yet the public is intrigued by this…man of mystery."

Looking down at the tile floor, the deformed features appeared disinterested as he shrugged. Suddenly, the rich man's cell phone rang. The person calling left a message and he saw the message was from Madame Giry. She was the head of the material division of _Desslar Enterprises_, and facilitated the creation of Erik's preliminary suit. He had called her earlier two weeks ago to order a more advanced version of his suit.

"Mr. Desslar, your gift as requested is ready at the MD at Desslar Enterprise. Feel free to visit me after your appointment with the laboratory division later today. Thank you. I will see you soon. Good bye."

Snapping his phone shut, Erik nodded towards the butler before abruptly leaving the room to head towards his _Porsche_ in the garage. Aldred simply sighed and sat down knowing he would have to notify Christine that Erik stood her up for dinner again. This would make the third time this week his young stooge had disappointed her.

Staring out the immense front yard, the old man merely watched the fading red taillights with a rare lackadaisical attitude before speaking to himself softly, "I sure hope you know what you're doing, Erik…If you are not careful, you will lose the only woman that loves you."

_~Downtown Gorham City Laboratory~_

"We are so pleased that you agreed to join us, Mr. Desslar. I wanted to show you the vast improvements that _I_ helped made to the laboratory since you first hired me," said the pompous corporate braggart, Frond Hualon, owner of the Lab's east division.

Erik simply nodded, uninterested in the hot air the man was spewing in his direction. As they trailed down the dimly lit hallway to the lab's research division, the deformed man's attention was everywhere else but the grey-haired man, Frond Hualon, next to him who was still talking about all of _his_ so-called accomplishments.

Before they could enter the research lab, a bumbling scientist who could have been the perfect poster child of science geek rushed up to the tense billionaire. Grabbing his hands, the balding scientist beamed, "Mr. Desslar, I am SO pleased that you are here, finally! I have been itching to show you my new invention!"

Hualon merely glared at the short-statured scientist with disgust and anger before he chided him, "Melvin, return to your post. You do not need to be a nuisance to Mr. Desslar."

But Erik interjected, "No..no..Tell me Melvin, what is this new invention?"

Melvin, barely thirty-one and a foot shorter than the billionaire, snorted with delight as he led them to his office in the corner. Once in the cubicle, Melvin brought up the blueprints and scientific research he had compiled on his computer as Erik briefly skimmed it.

The socially awkward scientist then retrieved a small environmentally safe container from the temperature-controlled freezer and explained his most "greatest" creation in his signature nasal voice.

"Mr. Desslar, my name is Melvin Wyatt and this invention will change the face of our modern military as we know it. Using the base components of VX nerve gas, I was able to form a gas that can incapacitate an enemy within a short period of seconds. This is one way to eliminate the need for weapons to be used by our men in military. I knew you would be thrilled by this due to your public disapproval and aversion to guns."

Erik's blood ran cold in his body before he exploded in rage, "You idiot! You cannot be serious? Do you realize what you are talking about is chemical warfare!"

The deformed man's face turned purple as he hurled the desk over, spilling miscellaneous contents on the floor. The lab assistants stood rigidly still, stunned by this sudden outburst by the normally placid Desslar.

Pointing in the quivering scientist's face, Erik screamed, "You would kill millions! This gas will cause countries to go to war!"

Turning to his right, he addressed the two security officers who just entered the lab, "I want every document, and every stockpile of this gas destroyed or properly disposed of this instant! While you are at it, make sure Mr. Wyatt is escorted off my property immediately."

At that point, Erik turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, trying to lower his boiling blood pressure while security officers followed their boss's orders. Soon the lab and the lab assistants resumed their every day work.

Melvin still trembled from the rage exhibited by his idol. Years of worship and dedication, he had put in to astonish his idol with his creation. How could he yell at him about this? How could his hero just treat him and his greatest accomplishment as if they were trash? The man stood rigidly still as his nervous system went into overload mode.

As an intern, Melvin had worked one on one with patients at Gorham's insane asylum, and had talked with an infamous serial killer that first started killing after he lost his child due to a clerical mistake at the hospital. The killer, Andres Delphin, had told Melvin the moment he knew his sanity disappeared.

"_Dr. Wyatt, a person can lose his mind…you know…But it's not like the medical books tell you…It's actually quite the opposite. In my case, I was overwhelmed with grief and living had become so, so very hard. To live was to undergo severe difficulty. The bills piled up, I hit the wife for her weakness, and the house was being foreclosed upon."_

_After this statement, his tone darkened to the utter depths of cold indifference when he told of his insanity, "Then I lost my only aspect of happiness in this hell of a world—Jenny—The moment I saw her dead body on the slab at the morgue was the moment when everything became so simple…Like…I mean… A switch was flipped all of the sudden…My world went from roaring in my head all day to complete silence…It was rather peaceful, you know, going from a man with so many roles to a man with one—to be a murderer."_

_Pausing, he grinned venomously, "There is no justice, no fairness in this world, doctor…Only injustice…Life is irrelevant…Life is a joke…There isn't any life so why would I care about other people, taking it away? I wanted to kill all the bastards who do not appreciate life—prostitutes, corporate bosses, rich celebrities, teenagers …" Andres suddenly stared into Melvin's frightened eyes, "and of course, my stupid weak wife…"_

Melvin suddenly found Andres' words to be true. The roaring noise of his past words, memories, warm feelings, and respect for life just…clicked off…in an instant. The transition was sweet and victorious like the feeling of warm rain after the storm triumphed over the sun. It was so smooth…Dr. Wyatt swiftly found insanity was like the taste of warm bread to the starving man—euphoric and peaceful.

Melvin's world of sounds, you know, the irrelevant sounds our world hears every day…the ones that people don't always acknowledge but know are there…Well, imagine complete silence taking over and what remained as the only sound was simply…white noise, _static_.

Yes, that is what Melvin only heard amidst the demolition of his life's work around him. His reaction was just simply to smile. He simply smiled as he watched Desslar, his only hero, shred every document of his gas, his life's work; he simply smiled as men in protective gear take the stockpiles of his gas to eliminate properly; hell, he even smiled when security threw him out in the cold weather with nothing but his empty briefcase. Why did this scientist smile?

Because he knew…

He knew life did not exist…and neither did heroes.

~_Paris, France: local __Café des Dues Magots~_

Former district attorney, Philippe de Chagny sat at his favorite local café, drinking his usually black coffee while reading the international paper. He did not hear much good news from Gorham City these days…

Yet, a small article in the crime section caught his eye. Written by Alexander James Wayne, a well-known investigative reporter in Gorham, the article described a new justice seeker that was captivating the city.

_Since early this year, a masked vigilante has taken Gorham City by storm. Capturing the criminals even our police force could not capture, this masked man has taken thirty-eight murderers, forty-five major drug cartels, and sixty-two mobsters into local custody. _

_What's more amazing is this masked man's skill in apprehending these suspects…Police reports indicated that this masked justice seeker has caught ALL men without use of any weapon, common ones like tasers, guns, or knives. Also extraordinary is the fact he has caught these criminals, all of which had one of the above weapons without the use of his own. _

_Simply using "kung fu" as Deputy Turk Dunnigham put it, this masked person incapacitated the criminals…_

_Lt. Sherman still made his stance clear at a press conference last Tuesday evening, reportedly declaring, "This masked avenger, as the media likes to report, is nothing but a menace to our streets. He may catch criminals, but he is still going _outside_ the laws to do it. Wrong is wrong no matter how much good can come from it…"_

_I am simply left to question this: is this masked vigilante a friend…or fiend? I suppose only time will tell…Until then, we can only wait._

"Is there something wrong, brother?" A soft but deep voice questioned across from Philippe de Chagny who set the paper down abruptly. Looking at Raoul, Philippe merely smiled and shook his head.

"No, my dear brother, nothing at all is wrong. I am just intrigued by a certain masked Gorhamite who has suddenly appeared out of nowhere, wiping crime off the street faster than even I did a year ago."

"I know you want to go home, Phil. You love Gorham even with its…problems."

Shaking his head slowly, Philippe spoke harshly, "No. Gorham is an unsalvageable city that will always be overrun by criminals. Soon enough this vigilante will quit or get killed trying to save that city. Heroes never last…Heroes are mortal, meant to fail at some point."

Raoul never understood Philippe's morbid fascination with his job; that job had cost him a wife and children. Yet, he secretly admired and envied his big brother for his extensive ambition. While Philippe remained adamant about being happy in Paris, Raoul knew his brother's heart longed for his real home thousands of miles away.

_~Christine's Apartment in Upper Gorham City~_

A loud knock made Christine jump slightly. She had been pouring over her law books, looking for precedents in her newest case. Her life had suddenly been taken over by cases since her partner left the country. She was beginning to notice how lonely she was feeling after Erik's constant standing her up the past few weeks.

Opening the door, she was startled to find a man holding three dozen roses in front of his face. A deep but familiar melodic voice spoke behind the floral arrangement, "These lovely smelling foliages are for the beautiful Christine Daae and are accompanied by a sincere apology for an Erik Desslar for being so rude and negligent."

Smiling she took the vase and coyly retorted to a revealed Erik Desslar, "It's going to take more than flowers for my forgiveness."

Whipping a velvet box from behind his back, he followed her inside where she sat the flowers down on her small kitchen counter. Turning towards the deformed man, Christine noticed the box and gasped, "Erik, you didn't have to…"

"Yes, I did. You have not deserved my lack of attention lately…I wanted to give you this as a sign of my appreciated and lo—loyalty to our friendship."

Puzzled by his abnormal verbal slip-up, she ignored it, smiling, and opened the velvet box. Inside she found a gorgeous white gold necklace with a large sapphire tear drop surrounded by three rows of diamonds."

Tears filled her eyes as she gazed at Erik with utter adoration and graciousness, her heart bursting with her hidden love for this longtime friend of hers. She fell into his warm embrace and closed her eyes, utterly exhilarated by his presence. He wrapped his strong arms around her, resting his cheek atop her head. His smell filled her entire being as quickly as the sun's light envelopes the horizon on a beautiful summer day.

He was the only man who ever made electricity shoot through her like lightning lights up the sky. She wanted to make love with him…She wanted to tell him that she l…She had to know if he…

Looking into his eyes, she ceased her racing thoughts and pressed her small hand to the side of his deformed cheek. He closed his eyes and breathed her name so wantonly that chills ran up her body. Leaning towards him, she whispered against his lips, her breath tickling them, "Erik, I want you to know that I l…"

An abrupt knock at her door tore him away from her body in an instant, the cold air replicating the wall he usually had between the two of them. She had been so close…so close to getting him to tear that wall of indifference down, but he now stood with his arms crossed and frown covering his features…Slight grooves creased his pale forehead as his deformed countenance scowled.

Sighing heavily, Christine opened the door to see Lt. Sherman and Detective Elizabeth standing there. Erik merely passed a disinterested glance their way before mumbling his apologies before heading out.

"Erik, wait, don't go…" The door clicked shut behind the two officers.

Sighing again, Christine turned towards her law enforcement brethren, "How can I help you two?"

Elizabeth spoke first, "Actually, I only accompanied Lt. Sherman here because I have to go upstairs to my apartment. He insisted that I come meet the district attorney. I feel so privileged to meet another woman in this line of work."

Shaking hands, Christine smiled genuinely before Elizabeth let herself out. Once Lt. Sherman and she were alone, Christine retrieved two glasses of tea, knowing that Peter detested the taste of coffee.

As the two sipped their coffee, the two discussed the armed robbery case they were presenting to the Grand Jury tomorrow morning. Despite this, part of Christine wondered if Erik had another reason besides shame to have that wall of nonchalance.

_~Outside Christine's Apartment Building~_

_Damn! _ Erik's mind screamed. He had been so close to tasting her lips…His senses were even more keen than usual, having been aroused by Christine's beauty and fragrance. How he loved her! He knew he should not…He could not give her the life she deserved, but he could not seem to help himself. He wanted her.

Hell, he loved her!

Yet, he was also secretly pleased they were interrupted by the lieutenant and his deputy because underneath his eveningwear was his suit. Only a brief two hours before, he had been present at Madame Giry's house to retrieve the suit's upgraded version.

"_Yes, Erik, do come inside. I have what you want ready." A tall, thin woman with her black hair tightly bound in a bun atop her head let the billionaire enter her quaint home outside Gorham city limits. She dressed in a simple, long sleeve black dress and wore no jewelry to adorn her pale figure. Having lost her husband from the war overseas nearly two years, she simply grieved for him ever since._

"_How are you feeling, Anne?" Erik gently questioned in his beautiful voice. Anne Giry was a very intelligent, proud woman, but even that quality did not stop the pancreatic cancer from ravaging her body. Her time left on the earth was limited to three to six months as of last month's visit._

_When Erik's parents perished, Anne stepped in to help Aldred with Erik's rearing, and had quickly become like a second mother to him. In fact, Erik and her biological daughter Meg had been like brother and sister at one time. As the years passed by, Meg and Erik drifted into different paths._

_"I am feeling as well as to be expected."_

_Anne retired from NASA's aeronautical division with great merits of her accomplishments. She developed strategies, uniforms, and shuttle compilations for aeronautical flight. Erik trusted her with his life, knowing she would be loyal to him. _

_After his return from Indonesia, he had gone to her with an offer. She readily accepted his terms, knowing the sum of money would always help Meg in the future. Taking Nomex material she had kept from some of her projects, she compiled a mask that was bulletproof that would hide Erik's deformity and identity from the criminals. _

_The mask looked porcelain but was menacing in appearance due to the grimacing countenance it portrayed for the wearer. When she made his suit, she made sure to use lightweight metal polymers and carbon composites to help deflect bullets while maintaining his speed if needed. _

_His suit was similar to an all black tuxedo without the tie. Constructing the suit was a bit more complex, so Anne retrieved some regular suit fabric and interwove Kevlar thread to embed the nano-tube fibers within the suit. _

_Also within the suit's fabric, she stitched electrical implants that connected wirelessly to the mask. This ensured Erik's safety if a criminal were to incapacitate him, then that criminal would be electrocuted, leaving Erik unharmed and not unmasked._

_The cape followed the same pattern as his suit, but also was reinforced with Nomex material to be a retardant against fire or tears. She also stitched some slight weight tips to the bottom of the cape to keep the cape from blowing around him constantly, be an annoyance, or even be a weapon if needed. While having the electrical implants within the cape, it was not used as a weapon. Instead, the electrical impulse transmitted caused the cape to take on a curvature shape in order for Erik to glide in the air once triggered by one of his gloves that held the equipment to the electrical implants and other weapons._

As Erik traveled down the hall, he happened to pass by an empty staircase when he felt the air pressure drop. Stopping he peered up the staircase to see a shadow diminish on the third floor. A queasy feeling settled in his stomach as he felt a chill run up his body. Something was amiss. Reaching into his laptop bag, he fingered his mask before climbing the eerily silent stairwell.

**Author's Note: Yes, I realize this chapter is unfinished. I just wished to give you all a little taste of this chapter to see if I was heading in the right direction with the story. If you like the way this story is heading, please review!**

**Thanks. I hope to have the rest of the chapter up by the end of next week or sooner…depending on my school schedule!**

**Sincerely,**

**RainsP.**


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